


The Ways Lie Straight

by Grenegome



Series: The Ways Lie Straight [1]
Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Age Play, Kink Meme, M/M, Magic Play, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grenegome/pseuds/Grenegome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry pays a social call on Donar Vadderung. Harry is more fun than paperwork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ways Lie Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Dresden Files Kink Meme.
> 
> Big thank you to Binz for the beta :-)

It’s pretty dumb to tear a hole straight out of the Nevernever without looking to see where you’re going. But I’ve had a lot of practice at walking the Ways since I became the Winter Knight, and I don’t need my mother’s words to lead me quite as often as I did before. Sometimes I’ll wander somewhere she never had, and find my own Way, running on instinct and dumb luck. They’re two things I specialize in, and I seemed to be getting better.

So I wasn’t too fretful about yelling, “ _Appartum_!” to get myself away from the seething Summer Sidhe Lord who was hot on my heels, chasing me through the fields of Faerie. I could totally have taken him, but I didn’t want to. Discretion was definitely the better part of not-explaining-to-Mab-why-I-was-skulking-around-in-Summer-in-the-first -place. She didn’t exactly approve of her Knight paying social calls on the Summer Lady.

But the hole I attempted to rip in the air didn’t quite form, and a sharp stab of panic joined the stitch in my side as I sprinted through the fragrant Summer grasses. I shouted louder, extending both my hand and my will, and making a savage rending motion at the air in front of me, “ _Appartum_!”

Still no luck, and fuck, I was on hostile turf and I’d been throwing a lot of magic around on my little countryside jaunt, but this was a simple spell. I shouldn’t be struggling with it, not when I could hear the hooves of Lord What-Sidhe’s-Name’s horse gaining ground behind me. But it was Faerie, where the third time was literally the charm. I dug deep, drawing on Winter’s power which was always at my fingertips now, closer than my own magic. “ _APPARTUM _!”__

This time I crashed straight through a hole in the world onto carpeted floor, slamming the Way closed behind me before I’d even stopped rolling.

“Is this a business call, Knight?” came an amused voice, and I jerked upright into a sitting position, the power humming beneath those words and at the heart of the room surging over my wizard’s senses.

Midgard. The offices of Donar Vadderung.

Holy shit.

“Uhm. If I say no, are you going to smite me?” I looked up into the eye of Vadderung where he sat at his desk, amusement plain on his wolfish face.

“If this isn’t a business call, then perhaps it’s a social one. Naturally I’d offer my guest a seat, and the pleasure of my company.”

I swallowed. That was... exceptionally generous of him, actually. I’d just stormed his seat of power by accident: he had every right to crush me like a bug and demand reparations from Mab. “This isn’t a business call. Sir.”

He snorted. “Don’t turn all respectful on me now, boy. I’ve not got any fun out of you yet. Take a seat.” I did, and tried not to fidget under the piercing blue of his gaze. It didn’t seem fair that he could make his one-eyed stare twice as imposing as anyone else’s.

“You get many visitors?” I said abruptly, in one of those moments where words bubble out of my mouth in a froth of panic without actually checking in with my brain.

“No. I sealed that Way myself, five hundred years ago. Perhaps I need to brush up on my seidr, if a mortal can break it so easily.”

Oops.

“Uh, I wasn’t trying to?”

He burst out laughing. “Careful, boy. A less confident god would take that as an insult.”

Yeah. Far be it from me to face an ancient power that maybe sort of liked me and fail to insult him. “I should just stop talking now, shouldn’t I?”

“Is there something else you’d like to do?” Vadderung asked, and his smile had a lot of old stories in it, tales of wandering and trickery, questing and deception. It didn’t fit, in this corporate office, behind that desk.

“Uh. Maybe?” I said, because it felt like there was a right answer to that question but I didn’t know what it was. “You have any suggestions?”

“Well, there are almost... eight thousand seven hundred and fifty six activities in the world I prefer to reviewing finance reports,” he said, gesturing at the paperwork in front of him. Gods had paperwork now? What was the world coming to? “But the list gets shorter when I account for a mortal man of uncommon courage and...” he trailed off, grin broadening. There were many, many unflattering ways in which he could finish that sentence, but he finally settled on, “skill”, with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Oh. He’d heard about that little soiree in Winter then.

I shouldn't have been surprised. I’d got the impression Vadderung heard everything eventually, and it’s not like the high Sidhe were particularly close mouthed about their evening pursuits. I’d been kind of... popular at the Winter Solstice shindig. I licked my lips.

“Didn’t know vikings went in for that sort of thing.”

“Vi- ” He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “My raiding days are long past me, boy. But perhaps you’d like to do some raiding of your own, mmm?” I blinked. He was taller than me, broader than me, and a god. Sure, I’d got a reputation in Winter for showing a guy a good time, but I hadn’t expected it to result in an invitation from _Odin_. He was still smiling. “You look like a startled rabbit, Knight. A refusal won’t offend me.”

Yeah. Because I was going to refuse the god of wisdom, war and the heroic dead, when he asked me to his bed. I was fighting a grin over the boost to my ego. “I could go for a little raiding.”

“A fine answer,” he said, and stood. Christ he was tall. “With me, Dresden.”

 

The room Vadderung led me to was warm and comfortable, dominated by a giant bed, large enough for a man of his frame to get enthusiastic on, and buried in welcoming blankets. I grinned my approval up at him, because surprisingly little of my sex life actually revolved around good old fashioned mattress-pounding aerobics anymore. I moved towards Vadderung, taking a slow breath, ready for the sudden weight of Winter’s Mantle to press down on my shoulders, the way it sometimes did when I got up close and personal with powers that weren’t of Winter. Not this time. I felt the comforting presence of my own magic, first and foremost, Winter a distant splinter of ice in the back of my mind. Huh. I must have used a lot more of my Knightly prowess ripping through to Midgard than I‘d realised.

Instead of thinking things through, I pulled off my shirt, closing with Vadderung, grinning at the way my magic pulled up tightly around me as I approached. It was an automatic response to the presence of his aura, and I had to ease myself into proximity with him, a calming internal mantra of _not fighting, just fun, not fighting_. Heck, if we were fighting, he’d have crushed me underfoot, but we were fucking, and he was more interested in being under _me_.

“So, mortal men?” I asked, skimming out of my jeans. “That a thing for you?”

He grinned again, smiles came easily to him, and started unbuttoning his own shirt. “Mortal warriors. Those of sufficient strength and ferocity to... catch my eye.”

“No puns,” I groaned, and then vaguely wondered if he was going to take the eyepatch off too. “Leave the bad jokes to me, please?”

“As you wish, wizard.” Vadderung shrugged his shirt off, and he was all scarred muscle, a particularly vicious knot on his left hand side below his ribcage drawing my eye, and then my hand. I could feel his power in the tips of my fingers, thrumming under his skin. I had to stretch up a little to kiss him, and he made a noise of appreciation as I did so.

“Pleasant,” Vadderung said, “not to have to hunch over to reach a man’s mouth.”

“Less talking, more kissing,” I said, and he rumbled in amusement, settling in to give the kiss the attention it deserved when I snuck a hand back into his mass of wild grey hair and angled his head to my liking, teasing him a little with brief darting forays of my tongue. I could feel him smiling into the kiss, sense a thrumming pulse of enjoyment in the air around him. Fun side effect of doing a god in the stronghold of their power; you can really _tell_ when they’re getting into it. I dropped my hand to his slacks, massaging the growing bulge in his trousers, and got my lip bitten for my trouble. “Ow,” I mumbled, pulling away and then grazing my teeth across the line of his jaw, his beard pricking against my face. “Jerk.”

“Hah, forgive me,” he said, and then dropped one of his ridiculously large hands over mine, encouraging my light massage. “You’re distracting, boy.”

“It’s a speciality,” I said, turning my attention to biting down the strong column of his neck, and then along the solid bulk of his shoulders. Salt and copper and power had my mouth watering all of a sudden, and I wanted more of him. “Pants off,” I said, “I want to be a whole lot more distracting.”

Vadderung freed my hand and set about stripping himself. “Promising. I’ve heard good things about that mouth.” He freed himself from his trousers and stood naked; I grabbed for his hand instead of doing anything about my obvious target, the giant cock looming from the grey thicket between his thighs. It was more fun to lick a broad stroke across the span of his palm, trace up the length of his thumb before drawing it into my mouth to suck on with a smile. He tasted good, he _felt_ good, strength just as obvious in his hands as everywhere else. Corporate renaissance aside, Vadderung didn’t have the hands of an office worker, and I couldn’t stop myself from seeking out every little hint of his true power. And I could guess how to find more of it. As soon as I’d coaxed the first low sound of interest from him, I pulled off and pointed at the bed. “Let’s take this horizontal.”

“Wise beyond your years,” Vadderung said, sitting on the bed and leaning back, feet planted on the mattress and thighs spread invitingly. I scrambled after him and up between his legs, going for another kiss as we rocked against one another companionably.

“Mmm, you should visit more often, Knight,” he said, fingers tracing abstract lines across my back. The sheer size of his hands sent little thrills of excitement through me, an electric awareness of the scale of him, of who he was.

“My boss gets pissy if I play hooky,” I said. I licked curiously across a flat pectoral, wiggling down him a little to get my head at the right angle to swipe my tongue across his nipple. “Slick?” I said. I wasn’t kidding about being distracting; I’d discovered it was best to have all the necessary props to hand before driving my partner crazy with my mouth.

Vadderung arched under me abruptly, hands disappearing up under the pillows before reappearing with a little ceramic pot. I took possession of it, and then wiggled all the way back down, grinning at the impressive length I had to work with. “How do you still have enough blood left in your brain?” I asked, leaning down to kiss the head of his cock where it was shiny with precome. I chased the taste of him across my lips and felt almost giddy when I stopped to think about it. Odin. Odin’s cock that I was about to swallow down.

It wasn’t a particularly skilled attempt. I’m pretty sure he’d had better, but from the sounds he made, nothing more enjoyable. He didn’t seem to mind wet and messy, as long as he got enthusiastic into the bargain, and boy did he. He also got me fumbling the lid off the little ceramic pot and scooping some out in the palm of my hand. It was... odd. Definitely not your brand name drug store lubricant, but still, clear and slick and viscous, with a heady kind of smell. I pulled off him.

“Is this edible?”

“In moderation,” he said, tilting his head. “But perhaps a little... potent, for you, boy. Save it until you’re older.” I pulled a face at him, and he laughed. “Well now, will you mount me or not? As delightful as this is, I had a mind to be filled this evening, not simply sucked.”

“Hey,” I said, stealing a hand down behind the impressive weight of his balls. “There’s nothing simple about that sucking, thank you.” Not when you had to negotiate a cock the size of his, anyway. It was more like a Herculean task. If any of Hercules’s tasks had been really sexy and enjoyable.

Vadderung smiled. “I’m not much for honeyed words, boy. But rest assured, your mouth is a pleasantly complicated destination.”

“Good,” I said, “because I’m pretty set on sucking you while we get ready for the fucking part, so shut up and think of Midgard or something.”

Good as my word, I curled my left hand around the base of his cock, squeezing him teasingly, and got back to swallowing him down, right hand playing behind his balls, flirting with my final destination until Vadderung started getting a little feisty, the occasional choked growl and half checked surge of his hips keying me in to the fact that this was totally working for him. Awesome.

I worked a finger inside of him at the same time as I tongued across the head of his cock, and he said something very rude and very not-English. It had the air between us pulsing with power and I felt my magic reaching out with that suicidal curiosity I’m famous for, tangling with the exhilarating potency surrounding me. Which was... really kind of rude, actually.

“Sorry,” I gasped, pulling off him, voice rough and strained, fingers still buried in his ass. “I’m not... that isn’t on purpose.”

“Youth,” he grinned down at me, the icy blue of his eye so strangely full of warmth. “I have power enough to spare here, wizard. Drink your fill.”

Generous. Of course he was, but a gift freely given startled me into a daft smile of my own, before I ducked his gaze in favor of the task at hand. Working to stretch him out while I sucked him down, my magic buzzed in my ears, setting every inch of me alive with power. I was used to being pumped up on Winter’s magic most of the time now, but this was different, this spoke directly to _my_ magic, to the power than burned at the core of me, beneath Winter’s mantle. It fanned the flames with every breath I took until I was brimful of magic, struggling not to shudder with it.

“Ready?” I asked, after three fingers and a particularly enthusiastic jerk of his hips.

“Eager,” he said. “Let’s be having you, boy.”

“Harry, if you wouldn’t mind.” I was careful to cloak the truth of my Name as I said it, subtly altering the whisper of will behind it, but Vadderung didn’t seem offended.

“As you wish, Harry.”

I eased into him in one long stroke, and his thighs wrapped around me with impossible strength. He grabbed a pillow from behind his head and then pushed his hips up towards me, stuffing the pillow beneath him for support. At least one of us was smart enough to think about the choreography, but I plead magic-induced-high for my lack of consideration. It had me sensitive and stupid, scrambling drunkenly after pleasure. Speaking of which: “Preferences?” I asked.

“As forceful as you can be, Harry,” he said, wolfish smile all teeth. Yeah, I could do that. I bowed my head to the pounding of my magic in my veins, my lungs, I was breathing it in even as it traced every inch of my skin, and yeah, I could do forceful. Feeling like this, I had more than enough force to burn, and I rocked into him with deliberate power, pulling away and surging back, a little snarl of delight as I did.

Vadderung laughed, and the sound doubled strangely in my head, sounding like roaring waves and distant thunder. “Like that, let me feel you,” he urged, dragging me forward with the leg he’d hooked behind me, pulling himself up deeper onto my cock. I set to, slamming hard into him on every thrust, heat of exertion flooding through me along with my magical high as I kept at him with the kind of deliberate violence I wouldn’t have chanced with a mortal man. Vadderung apparently liked to be fucked like a fight because he snarled up at me with evident glee, jolted between laughter and cursing every time he thrust up to meet my stroke. “A... little more, Harry,” he said, through gritted teeth.

I almost thought I didn’t have more to give him, but there was the magic, right at my fingertips, begging to be used. I gathered it to me, nearly keening at how that drew more magic across my skin, flooding in to fill the vacuum as I compressed it tightly around my will. Vadderung eyed me assessingly, teeth bared. “Would you cast, wizard?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” I said, wedging a hand between us as we thrust against one another. “Not subtle enough to count as _casting_.” I wrapped a hand tightly around his cock, and then called that tightly held power to the tips of my fingers. “You can take that, yeah?” I asked, because god or not, he was built like a man, and certain parts of a guy’s anatomy deserve a little care.

“I can take that,” he said. “Can you?”

“Let’s find out,” I said, and unleashed a bolt of sheer unfocused power straight into him. It had no shape or purpose, it simply _was_ , like a static shock of magic. Vadderung roared, bucking up and nearly dislodging me, but it was the good kind of roar, the kind coupled with a bright ferocious joy as he stared up at me, suddenly catching his breath.

“Mad,” he said. “All the best mortals are. Again, if you can.” I could, even though it’d left me tender, metaphysically speaking. It was like coming and having someone try to work you to orgasm again straight after, but I’d had a steep learning curve in Faerie. I could grit my teeth through a little tenderness.

Vadderung started a jerky thrusting of his hips into my grip as he felt the power building in me, and I’d slowed my thrusts into a determined rocking, not quite up to the multitasking required to gather my will and jackhammer into him. “Ready? Steady?” and then because I can be a bit of a dick at times, I slammed the power into him before reaching, ‘go’.

“Blood and fire,” he thundered, and came pulsing powerfully against me. I reeled, giddy with the lack of what I’d just launched into him. It broke my rhythm, and I thought for a moment I didn’t have enough steam to keep going. Maybe I’d over exerted myself. But my body was still hungry for him, eager, and the fact that I felt like I’d just run a magical marathon only left me exhausted and aching in all the best metaphysical ways, awash on a sea of endorphins. I rocked into Vadderung sluggishly, trying to topple over the edge I’d been climbing towards. He made a pleased sound, moving with me. “Bold, Harry,” he murmured, fingers in my hair, coaxing another kiss out of me. I got the feeling this was his version of sweet-talk. “Take your pleasure.”

The rich timbre of his voice did it for me, reached down somewhere deep where my magic lay, and stroked a finger across it. I shuddered through my orgasm, biting the muscle of his chest to muffle my cry, and then I fell down against him, heavy and sated. I pulled out and then crawled up him, idly licking a stripe across his collarbone, all salt and strength, before making like a bony wizard blanket. Vadderung hummed his amusement and seemed happy to have me use him as furniture, petting idly up my back, into my hair.

Without warning the mantle pressed back into me, cold, and I caught my breath sharply, curling up against it, around a little flicker of anger nurtured deep down inside, where Mab didn’t look. Vadderung’s petting got a little rougher.

“You’ve done well, boy,” he said, like he was scolding me, “for someone of your age, with your enemies.”

“I sold myself to Winter.” Whored myself, really, and I’d do it again for Maggie, I would, but I didn’t have to like what it had made me. Vadderung cuffed the back of my head lightly, barely a passing glance of his fingers.

“You’ve not even seen half a century. Sheltering with a stronger power in your youth is not shameful. Greater than you have done so.”

“I’m _bound_ to Winter. I don’t get to pack it in when I’m all grown up, which, hey, is _right now_.”

“Winter is bound to you, also. And Mab may have taken more than she bargained for. We’ll see.”

He’d seen a lot, I knew, and maybe bewailing my fate in the afterglow was a little graceless of me. Arguing _against_ a god of wisdom probably wasn’t a smart thing to do either. It made more sense to shut up and listen and, oh. Greater than me? He’d been that power, once, that a young wizard had bound himself to.

“You taught Merlin.”

He grinned at the name, expression fond. “It’s been a long time since I thought on that contentious bundle of bones. You’d have gotten along, boy. Maybe too well for the rest of the world to keep up.” I decided to take that as a complement somehow, and smiled back, stretching as I did so.

“Not to fuck and run, but I have a Court function to go be ornamental at.”

“Mmm,” he said. “You might want to wade in a river on your way back, boy. Unless you want to set tongues wagging. My power’s all over you.”

I tried to work through that in my head, the implications, ramifications, ripples. Despite Lea’s best efforts, I still pretty much sucked at court politics. “Do you mind?”

“Mind?” he laughed. “No. Bragging’s a great pleasure of mine. I like the idea of you turning heads in the Court, still mussed from my bed.”

I swept a kiss across his mouth and rolled out of the bed. “Great. Then I’ll go start some rumors.”


End file.
